The job fair...

Second grader Timmy Tonka's class attended a job fair. There were all sorts of professionals there to help the little tykes start thinking about how their education will do little to help them in the real world. There were real estate agents, tax men, painters, military men, and many more.

Little Timmy walked up to one man who was holding a large clip board. "Well, young man", the old man asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" "I want to be a professional race car driver.", Timmy said with enthusiasm. "That doesn't sound very practical." the man said, dousing Timmy's excitement.

"Well, in that case," Timmy replied, "I would like to be involved in the manufacture of telephones." "Telephone building is primarily dominated in Asian countries by large corporations, and therefore you will not be able to do that," the man countered with a smug little smirk.

"I wasn't finished," Timmy interjected, "And you are interrupting...I want to be involved in the manufacture of telephones. By that I mean that I want to be the guy who provides the ink used to draw the schematics used in the design of the angles of the screws that are used to make the motorcycles that carry the design notes regarding the computers that utilize the computer automated design programs that devlopers run to measure and chart the plastic casing for the calculators that estimate the cost of payroll for the people who clean the facilities wherein the crime scene tape is manufactured that was used to surround the building where the corporate executive embezzled thousands from the company that sells the metal used to make the multi colored wiring that is soldered within the telephones that are manufactured primarly in Asian countries by large corporations."

With that, the man stared blankly at Timmy. And with that, Timmy kicked the man squarely in the shins and walked away.

The end.

P.S. Little Timmy Tonka grew up to be just that.